


pacem in terris

by jennifercharter



Category: The 100 (TV), V for Vendetta (2005)
Genre: All takes place on the Ark, Bellamy never made it onto the Dropship, But it's going to be AWESOME, Clarke never went to the Skybox, I don't know what I'm doing, Not even sorry!, Octavia is still going to be kickass, Slow Burn, V for Vendetta AU, Vive la Resistance!, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-03-30 01:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3918058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennifercharter/pseuds/jennifercharter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 100/ V for Vendetta AU that popped into my head and refused to go away!</p>
<p>Will differ some, obviously, but I try to mix the two stories appropriately. </p>
<p>Clarke has never been oblivious to the life in the Ark, but it isn't until tragedy strikes that she starts thinking maybe she can make a difference.</p>
<p>And then she meets a guy in a Guy Fawkes mask and well, it all goes downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! So I was watching V for Vendetta and this popped into my head. I'm trying to make sure that while the AU significantly departs from canon, key points are still addressed. Hope this all works out! :) Let me know what you think so far!
> 
> Will update as often as work and the muse allows.

Clarke cursed, hurrying through the corridor, her hair tied back and under the hood as she clutched her medical bag to her.

She’d lost track of time, trying to spread the scant medications between the children, and only realized curfew was beginning minutes before she left the common room.

Now she was darting through the corridors, trying to avoid the guards.

Her mother might be on the council, but her father had been floated for terrorism. 

No one was going to take her side. 

Her mother had caught her trying to finish her father’s work, and begged her not to, tears in her eyes, weeping that she’d already lost her husband, she couldn't lose her daughter too.

Clarke had kept close to her mother’s side, knowing the chance of her being arrested was high. In the end, Kane had overlooked her, but she didn't doubt that choice was after insistence from her mother and Chancellor Jaha.

Still, she couldn't just stand by and do nothing, and so she had began volunteering for the Skybox medic duties, to the delight of Jackson, who had been stuck with the duty before. She had also made friends with the parents of several of the delinquents, in particular the ones in Agriculture. 

Now, she had a tiny but steady supply of pharmaceuticals to try to help those that had already surpassed their limits for any given time. She had started dressing in a hoodie and torn jeans, trying to look less privileged and sneaking down to the poorest sections of the Ark, trying to help children’s health.

It was dangerous, and after almost a year many people still didn’t trust her, but she was welcome in Mecha’s Common Room in the evenings when she would talk quietly with concerned parents about their children and arrange to visit the sick when necessary.  
Someone had started calling her Bona Dea, early on, and she had never given anyone her real name, out of at least some sense of self-preservation. Now, she answered to it, and her green hoodie was often instantly recognized as soon as she entered the common room.

Footsteps and laughter sounded ahead of her and she skid to a stop, looking left and right before backing slowly into the shadows. Thankfully, the lights dimmed almost as soon as curfew began, to encourage everyone to sleep, supposedly. Really though, it was to conserve resources.

She paused as the voices came nearer and turned to dash around the corner, freezing as she came face to face with a masked man. Instinctively she opened her mouth to scream, thrashing as he slammed into her, his gloved hand covering her mouth. Her head bounced off the wall behind her and for a moment she saw stars. She realized he was whispering to her as she tried to shake her head.

“I’m not going to hurt you! I’m not going to hurt you! Be quiet or you’re going to get us both floated!”

The words made it through her panic and she went still beneath his hand, eyes wide on the mask inches from her. After a moment he nodded and eased his hand up, holding up a finger in the universal “wait” motion. She nodded slightly and he backed away from her, turning to edge around the corner, watching the corridor.

Distant laughs sounded and he turned back to her, holding out his hand. 

She took it, not even thinking, and he tugged her along several corridors, muttering under his breath, though she couldn’t hear what.

Finally they came to a stop, and leaned against the wall. “We’re safe here,” he said, his voice deep and muffled by the mask.

“Who are you?” She gasped. 

“I feel like pointing out that you just asked a masked man his name…” He said, sounding amused.

“Right,” she muttered, huffing out a laugh.

“Praetor.” He shrugged. “I guess you can call me Praetor. I know you, of course.”

Clarke stiffened.

“Bona Dea,” he said softly.

Clarke relaxed and nodded, tugging at her hood to keep it over her hair. “Right.” She smiled. “Thank you, for saving me.”

“Come on, I’ll get you home,” he offered, setting his hand on her lower back and guiding her down the corridors. 

“You don’t have to,” she said quickly.

“Yes, I do,” he said simply. “Don’t worry, I’ll just get you to Go-Sci.”

“How do you know that’s where I live?”

“I know a lot more than people think I do,” he muttered, and she thought he said something about fate, but she wasn’t sure.

She glanced down as her watch beeped, signaling the hour. “Midnight. It’s a new day,” she said, forcing cheerfulness into her voice.

“Remember, remember, the fifth of November,” he muttered.

Clarke froze, his hand slipping off of her as he continued to move forward for a moment. He turned and she could read the annoyance in his body. “What?”

“My father used to say that.” She frowned, a memory clicking into place. “Guy Fawkes.”

The man froze for a moment and then tilted his head to the right. “Who’s your father?”

“Jake Griffin,” she murmured, not even caring that he probably knew exactly who she was. 

“Of course he was,” the man sighed.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I, like God, do not play with dice, and don’t believe in coincidences.”

She straightened, glaring at him. “They floated him for trying to help people. They called him a traitor, but he wasn’t.” She tilted her head to the left, mirroring him. “You’re trying to do the same thing, aren’t you? That’s why you wear the mask.”

“Maybe I’m a crazy person?” He seemed caught off guard.

She grinned. “Well, that’s a possibility.”

He watched her, head still tilted slightly, and then he bowed it slightly and nodded before he looked at her. “Come with me.”

“What? Where?” He said nothing and held out his hand to her, and she almost asked if he wore the gloves as part of his disguise, or because the station got so cold. Instead she smirked. “Are you, like, a crazy person?”

There was a huff of breath that might have been a laugh. “I’m quite sure they will say so.”

She took his hand. 

She knew he was communicating with someone over a comm, but could never make out his mutters. Lights and doors responded before they got near and a few times they paused, him motioning for her silence as footsteps passed them by.

“Do you like music?”

She blinked at the back of his head. “Yes?”

“Are you sure,” he teased and she wondered if she’d accidentally drugged herself at some point and this whole thing was a hallucination.

“Yes.”

“I’m a fan of banned music, myself.”

Clarke chose not to mention the secret panels in her home that not even her mother knew about, installed by her father, that held books and albums that her father had referred to as “frowned upon.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder and nodded as though he was reading her mind. “Good girl.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but said nothing as they rounded a corner and she realized they were at an observation point on the same level she lived on.

Earth glowed beneath them, a backdrop to the spinning Ark. 

“Do you ever think we should be down there instead of up here?” He asked quietly, almost reverently.

“We’d die,” she stated.

“Are you sure? Or are we just scared?”

She looked over at him, aware he wasn’t really talking to her. “What are we doing here?”

“Over the past few months, the Council has been preparing to send everyone in the Skybox on a dropship to the surface of Earth.”

Clarke paled and swayed in place, her eyes on the Skybox in the distant part of the Ark. “They can’t.”

“And yet, they will,” he said, and his voice had rage in it. “But I had an idea myself, when I heard the plan. I can’t stop the launch, but I can screw with the plan.” He huffed that laugh again. “They won’t be able to ignore this.”

“Ignore what?”

The lights dimmed and Clarke stepped towards the window, startled as the Skybox went dark. It was too far away to be sure, but she thought she saw lights flickering in some of the windows. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “What have you done?”

“I gave her her best chance,” he murmured. “All of them, it's their best chance. I just wish I had a way to go with them,” he sounded devastated and she reached out, one hand on the glass, the other reaching out to hold his hand, ignoring the way he looked at her or the way his breath caught for a moment.

Music began to play over the comm and Clarke looked up, startled. “I know this song,” she breathed.

“World Turned Upside Down,” he said and then looked away from her to the window as the lights came back on in the Skybox. At the same moment a ship detached from the Ark, thrusters firing it towards Earth. “It’s their best chance,” he muttered, and they watched in silence as the ship disappeared into the atmosphere.

He turned his head to the side, as if listening, and then turned to her. “Time to get you home.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me so far! Please remember to drop a comment when you're done and let me know what you think so far!

Clarke woke the next morning feeling as though she’d gotten no sleep at all, and wondering if she’d dreamt the whole thing.

Their home was empty, a common occurrence recently. 

A note was flashing at her from the screen in their living room. 

“Stay home, today, honey, some stuff happened last night, and the corridors are crowded. Love you, Mom.”

Clarke read it twice, and immediately went to get dressed. She went to the medical center expecting… well, to be honest, she wasn't sure. The room was empty except for Jackson, scrolling through files and making notes. She sighed softly and he looked up, waving her over. “Did you hear about the rumor that a ship launched last night?”

“No, what happened?”

Jackson shrugged. “Don’t know much yet. Giant crowds up near the command areas. Your mom’s been in with the Council all morning. Did you hear the music last night?”

She blinked. “I thought I dreamed it,” she lied, moving across the room to set her things down.

“You didn’t. Rumor is everyone in the Skybox is gone.”

“Dead?” She asked softly.

“Who knows? I know none of the guards have been seen around yet. A lot of bad rumors floating around, like maybe there was a malfunction and they died. It would be a pity.”

“About the kids or the guards?” 

“The guards families,” he shook his head. “What a loss.”

“What about the kids?”

“What?”

“A hundred kids are gone, Jackson.”

“Criminals, most of them, remember? All due to be executed when they turned 18,” Jackson said dismissively. 

“They were just kids,” she argued, furious at the injustice of it all. “I knew some of them. I took care of them.”

“Careful, Clarke, that’s subversion talk,” he joked. “Don’t want to end up in one of Shumway’s interrogation rooms, do you?”

Clarke gripped her lab coat so tightly she was surprised it didn't rip. “Shumway?!” She opened her mouth, ready to say exactly what she thought of Shumway, and then a throat cleared loudly behind her. 

She twirled to see Wells Jaha and a stranger in a janitor’s uniform standing just inside the doors. She straightened, glaring at him. “Jaha.”

Wells winced and glanced at the janitor who kept his head down. “Your mom reported a coolant leak in your quarters. They fixed it, but she wanted maintenance to stop by and clean up the spill.”

“And you brought maintenance here? Wow, your sense of direction is failing amazingly. I mean, this is GoSci, and we live in Alpha,” she said leadingly.

“Abby’s in a council meeting. She needs you to let him into your quarters, make sure the coolant is taken care of. I saw Janitor Blake as I was passing and asked him to make it a priority.”

“Of course, because who can deny the chancellor’s son anything? It’s such a privilege, even just knowing you,” she bit out. “So, have you talked to your dad about the expiring medication being given to the people in Mech or Factory stations?”

Wells winced and she sneered. “I didn't think so. You sure are-”

“Clarke!” Jackson barked and she stopped, reddening and turning away from the doorway to shuffle through some medical supplies randomly.

“I just need a couple of minutes in your quarters, ma’am,” a new voice added, sounding resigned.

“Clarke,” she said strongly and turned to face him, and sighed at the surprised look on his face. “Not ma’am, please.”

“Medic Griffin,” Jackson said formally. “Go ahead and take him.” He gestured around the room. “It’s not like we’re busy.”

Clarke sighed again deeply and glared briefly at Wells before she brushed past them and into the hallway. She glanced at the janitor and nodded for him to follow her.

“I thought the privileged all loved each other,” the janitor muttered as they waited in the lift.

“I thought the moon was made of cheese,” she muttered. “Then I grew up.”

He smirked very slightly.

 

She felt wrong standing in the living room as he worked. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He looked up, surprised. “What?”

“Do you want some water or something,” she asked awkwardly. 

He hesitated. “Water? Yeah. Thanks.”

Clarke smiled and moved into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and then an apple, such as it was. Fruit was easier to get in Alpha Station, she knew that after plenty of trips to Factory and Mecha. She walked back out and smiled. “Here.”

“Thank you.” He watched her, eyes narrowed. “I recognize you. You come to Factory to help the kids.”

She blinked and stepped back. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“It is you. I see you, sometimes, when I’m picking up my rations or telling stories.”

She blinked. “The stories?”

He flushed, sticking the apple in his pocket and sipping the water. “Myths. There are only a few books in station’s so-called library.” She didn’t miss his envious look at the books on the shelf in the room. “It gave me an excuse to learn new stories for-” He stopped and a shuttered look came over his face. “Thanks for the water.” He handed the glass back.

Clarke walked into the kitchen, listening to him moving around. She walked back slowly. “Does it help?”

He looked up at her from securing the vacuum. “What?”

“Someone checking on the children. Does it help?”

He nodded without hesitation. “It helps the parents know what to do, even when you don’t have any extra medicine.”

She hesitated. “Please don’t tell. I know it’s not illegal exactly, but- “

“Don’t worry,” he smirked. “My sister was in the Skybox last night. My mother was floated and my sister was condemned to Earth for the sin of being born.” His jaw worked back and forth. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he said finally and pushed the bucket towards the door.

I knew her, she almost blurted. Only one prisoner she’d checked on had ever been a sister. The only time she smiled was when she talked about you.

She said nothing for a moment and then darted after him. “Wait!”

He paused in her doorway, eyebrows raised as she rounded the corner and waved him back in. “Just wait right there for a minute?” He nodded and she dashed into her room, scrambling for the sketchbook she hid under the bed.

She flipped through the different drawings, searching and then gently tore her portrait of the defiantly-smiled girl from the book, rolling it carefully. She emerged from her room and was startled to see the janitor had moved back into the living area, and was looking at the books. “They were my father’s.”

He nodded slightly. “He has The Odyssey. I read the Iliad, once, and my mom told me the story of Odysseus, but I’ve never read it. I didn’t even know a copy still existed in print.”

It went unspoken that the book was allowed to be owned privately instead of forced into the public library. 

“Did you like the Iliad?”

He nodded.

“My dad liked those stories. He liked history, thought we should learn from it more than we had. He used to tell me…” She stopped and took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter.” She nodded at the shelf. “You can have it. The Odyssey, I mean.”

His face went through a series of emotions, from shock to disbelief, confusion and then annoyance before it smoothed into polite indifference. “I don’t take handouts.”

She snorted and reached past him for the book. “Dad had its binding fixed. I remember, because it cost him almost a half-year of moonshine rations. My mom teased him about it, but he never hesitated.” She held out the book to him and sighed at the stubbornness in his face. “It’s not a handout. I’ll never read it, and my mom will never notice it’s gone. Just promise you’ll take care of it, and share it, okay?”

He took the book from her finally. “Yeah, I’ll take care of it.” He buttoned it into his jumpsuit carefully. 

“We’re not assholes,” she said softly.

He nodded, not looking at her. “What did you want?” He smirked at her confusion. “You asked me to wait?”

“Oh!” She tried not to blush and handed him the rolled-up portrait. “It’s not much,” she said nervously. “I was the medic in the Skybox. We weren’t supposed to know the kids names, so that’s why I put her prisoner number there, and what she was found guilty of.”

“She looks happy,” he said, sounding surprised.

“She was talking about you, at the time. I only spoke to her a few times, but that’s the only time I ever saw her smile. I wanted to remember her smile.” She shrugged. “I… thought someone should remember them, since their records are usually purged from the system eventually.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, rolling it up carefully. He met her eyes and smiled genuinely at her. She thought for the first time how handsome he was when he smiled. “You’re not all assholes.”

“We’re not,” she agreed easily.

“Have a good day, and be careful, with the kids,” he said, actually sounding sincere, and then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment!


	3. Chapter 3

Days passed in their usual monotony and Clarke started to forget about the man in the Guy Fawkes mask. Well, okay, that was a lie, because how do you forget something like that? She wasn’t thinking of him as often, at least.

Then, a month before the annual Unity Day celebration masquerade, there was a small series of electrical malfunctions. No major systems were affected, and while Clarke listened to the grumbling about aging computers, she couldn’t help but think of Praetor.

Several days later she was entertaining the children of Factory Station when a shrill whistle came over the speakers and the lights flickered.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the Ark,” a voice boomed over the speakers and she followed along with everyone else crowding around the large cracked and dirty monitor. “My name is Praetor. Like the ancient praetorian of ancient times I seek to protect the people. There is a disease running through the Ark, and it’s been here for a long time. Maybe we’ve all been too afraid to try to change things, or maybe we just got used to it. The privileged feast while we survive off of their scraps. We’re punished for breaking the slightest of laws, while they allow our suffering and how is that not a crime? It’s time for a change my friends.”

There was a shout in the corridor, and the crowd around her shifted at the sound of boots in the corridor. 

“Once, Unity Day was a celebration of the human race coming together, surviving against the odds, before they forced their laws on us. Before we allowed it. Unity Day can be that again.” He tilted his head to the side and she wondered if she imagined the breathy laugh. “I’ll be in touch.”

The lights flickered and the screen went dark. Before anyone could speak or move guards poured into the room. “Return to your homes!”

“Who was that?” Someone shouted. 

The comm speakers crackled and Jaha’s calm, superior tone ordered everyone to their homes, warning of insurrectionists.

“What’s going on?” A woman yelled.

“Go home, now!” One of the guards yelled and he brought out a shock baton. “Now!”

The guards all brought out their batons and advanced on the crowd.

Someone screamed and panic spread. Clarke huffed as a wide-eyed man ran past, shoving into her/ She spun, looking down at the children. “Go! Run home, right now!”

The children scattered and she tugged her hood even closer around her face and tried to follow the flow of the people. Behind them she could hear the pained screams and the yelled orders of the guards. 

“Bona Dea!” She turned, and saw two children huddled against the wall. “Help!”

She fought the surge, elbowing her way to them.

“I think he broke his leg!” The girl yelled.

Clarke reached for the boy, ignoring his cry of pain, and scooped him into her arms. They escaped into the corridor, weaving through people, the boy wailing in her ear. Clarke spotted a corner and set him down. The lights flickered and she sighed. “What happened?”

“A man threw him into the wall.”

“Do you know where he lives?”

The girl nodded. “Come on.”

Clarke lifted him carefully, murmuring to him as they moved through the corridors.

They could still hear yelling and they paused at one point as a group of men ran past them yelling.

Finally they stopped in front of a door and the girl knocked frantically. The door slid open and the boy cried out as a tear-stained woman reached for him. She carried him in, speaking to him quickly in a language Clarke thought might be Italian.

“Careful,” Clarke said quickly, motioning to his leg and gesturing towards the couch. The mother nodded, speaking soothingly to the boy. Clarke looked him over carefully. “Nothing’s broken or dislocated. I think it’s just a sprain.”

The mother nodded. “Thank you, Sancta.”

“He’ll have to stay off of it for a few days,” Clarke said quickly. “It’ll be sore.” She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small pouch, moving into the kitchen and choosing a glass to pinch the powder into. She mixed it with water and came back, hesitating. “It will help him sleep, but it’s all I can spare.”

“We understand,” the woman said, tears still on her cheeks. “Bless you, Sancta.” She made a   
motion that Clarke recognized vaguely as being religious.

“I’ll try to come back in a few days, but if it gets worse take him to a medic.” She looked to the girl. “Can she stay here? I don’t want her out in this.” At the nod she relaxed. “Good, thank you. Can you call her parents?”

“You must stay here also. If they catch you…”

“I’m fast,” Clarke promised. “I’ll be fine.”

“God go with you,” the woman whispered and then caught her arm. “You saved my son. If you ever need anything, remember Marguerite Cordero.”

“Thank you, Marguerite,” Clarke said softly and then opened the door enough to peer outside and make sure the way was clear. She grinned over her shoulder at them and darted out.

It took her a few minutes to orient herself. Where there had been so much noise before, there was now a silence that was almost oppressive. The hum of the machinery of the Ark, instead of settling her, made her want to hide.

Scuffling noises caught her attention and she paused for a moment. The junction to Agro Station was only a few hallways over, and she knew the Green’s would give her a place to sleep for the night, and an alibi if anyone came asking later.

Then, because she knew she’d never forgive herself if it was a child, she moved silently through the corridor, freezing as she heard someone yell for backup. She peered around the corner carefully, just as a guard went down, Praetor standing over him, his back to her.

Another guard ran around the corner ahead of her and leveled his gun at the masked man. “Don’t fucking move. Bet you thought you were so smart, huh, freak?”

Clarke reached into her bag, feeling for the distinctive canister of pepper juice and wrapping her hand around it.

“I do,” Praetor said simply and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, not so much, obviously,” the guard taunted.

Clarke stepped forward silently, coming up behind the guard, meeting Praetor’s eyes briefly, or at least, where she assumed his eyes were.

“Oh, obviously,” Praetor mocked. ‘Between you and me, you’re the smarter.”

“Damn right.”

Then, in a voice so honestly thoughtful, it almost gave her pause. “But what about her?”

The guard spun around and she tossed the juice at his eyes. He screeched and swung with the baton. It hit her hard in the chest and felt the electricity shoot through as she dropped to the ground.

A moment later the guard landed next to her, his eyes staring into hers. She gasped at the lifelessness in them, unable to move.

“You okay?” Praetor appeared over her, tilting her face to look up at him. His other hand fluttered over her shoulder, and his face was turned that way. “Bona Dea?” He looked back at her. “Clarke?”

She closed her eyes, unable to fight the darkness anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

Clarke woke slowly, aware only of the softness of her bed. Then she opened her eyes and and realized she wasn’t in her room. She made an embarrassing squeaking noise, sitting up so fast she almost hit her head on the ceiling. No, not a ceiling. She looked around carefully and realized she was in one of the station’s crawl spaces used for maintenance. She shifted and her bed moved and she realized it was on wheels. A moment of inspection told her it was an old mechanic's creeper. She had a brief flash of memory of her father letting her ride on one as a very young child.

Distant music drifted towards her and she awkwardly rolled towards it, peering through the grate at the end.

The room had been an electrical substation in the early years, she would bet, noting all the missing panels and missing wiring. The room was tiny, and where wiring had once through the panels, their were now rigged shelves that held books and even a small refrigeration unit in one of them. Art prints hung on the walls and the music was coming from a speaker was rigged and connected to a tablet on the floor. 

“You’re awake,” Praetor said softly, and she looked up sharply, realizing he was across from her, emerging from another grate, still fully in disguise.

“I am,” she murmured. “Am I a prisoner?”

He huffed that laugh again. “There’s a latch on the top.”

She unlocked it and lowered herself to the ground carefully, wincing at the pain in her shoulder.

“I, uh, hope you don’t mind,” he gestured at her clothing that she suddenly realized wasn’t her own. She glared and he shrugged. “I had to check your shoulder and your shirt was burnt, so I thought you’d want to hide that.”

She sighed and nodded, unbuttoning the first buttons to pull it aside and check. To her great amusement he turned his back to her. “It looks good. Are you a medic on one of the stations?”

“I read a lot,” he waved at the books on the wall.

She nodded as she saw a first aid manual and buttoned her shirt back. “I’m decent. Where are we?” 

He turned to her and hesitated. She blinked at him. “Seriously?”

“It’s not you, it’s just… If they found me…”

“And you think I’d tell them where you are?” She asked, insulted.

“It’s not just me I have to protect,” he said quickly. “I have others helping me. I can’t risk them. Shumway… he could kill all of us if you knew too much.”

“You can’t keep me here!” 

“I won’t!” He shook his head at her horrified expression. “I swear. I just couldn’t take you back with the guards everywhere, not until curfew lifts.”

She blinked and breathed deeply. “What time is it?”

“Almost six. I was about to come wake you.” He gestured to the cooler. “Are you hungry?”

“I can wait until I get home,” she offered.

“If you want.”

She glanced over at the tablet as the music changed and frowned. “Is that the Beatles? I don’t recognize the song.”

“It is,” he said. “And it’s banned, which is why you probably don’t recognize it.”

“It is? How did you get it?”

“Turns out I’m a criminal,” he said lightly.

Despite herself she laughed and then sobered as the image of the guard in the hallway flashed in front of her eyes. “Did you kill the guard that hit me?”

“Would you prefer a lie or the truth?”

“What do you think?”

“I think people like living in their own worlds sometimes, where they're happy and ignorant.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “I disguise myself in a green hood and smuggle medicine to children, perfectly aware that if I’m caught, I will probably die.”

“He’s dead.”

She nodded. “Are you going to kill more people?”

“Yes,” he said viciously. 

She watched him for a moment, wishing she could see his face. Not because she wanted to know his identity, because she did, but had a feeling there was a passion in his eyes, hatred maybe, even. A need for vengeance. “What did they do to you?”

“Nothing they haven’t done to everyone else,” he muttered and then straightened. “I need to know the best way to clean a wound without access to medicine.”

“Let me see it,” she ordered, stepping forward and reaching for him.

Her fingers had brushed against his chest before he reacted, stepping back. “It’s not me, but thank you.”

“Then take me to whoever it is.”

“I think I will, eventually,” he said thoughtfully. “But it’s impossible now.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The person isn’t on the Ark,” he said slowly.

She blinked and then she couldn’t hold back her laugh, overjoyed. “They survived?”

“Some of them. We had radios onboard and weapons. They aren’t doing so bad now that a few people have stepped up to lead them and keep them out of trouble.”

“Someone’s hurt? Let me talk to them. I need a description of the wound and how it happened.”

“Clarke,” he whispered. “He’s probably going to die. I need the knowledge for the future.”

“No one will die if I can help it.” She stepped closer to him, noting he had backed against the wall and had nowhere to go without being obvious about it. “I’ve watched my mother heal people my whole life. If I say there’s hope, there’s hope.”

“This isn’t about hope. It’s about doing what’s necessary. And what’s necessary is that someone down there needs the knowledge you have. Maybe not for this boy, but for the ones that will follow.” He walked around her and paused at the wall, staring at one of the paintings. 

She frowned. “Tower of Babel.”

“You know it?”

“I like art,” she admitted softly.

He nodded and then turned to her. “The radios can only be used at certain times or the Ark will detect the signals. Write down everything you need to know, and we’ll try to help the boy.”

She took the tablet he handed her and began typing. “There was a girl in the Skybox, I’d like to know if she survived. She has a brother, and she was all he had left.”

“You mean Octavia Blake?”

“I guess so,” she shrugged. “I never knew her name.”

“No one can know about the kids on the ground. It will endanger everything.”

“Her brother would keep your secret.” She smirked. “He keeps mine. I trust him.”

“I don’t care, and I doubt you even know him. Do you really want to burden him with more secrets? Yes, his sister’s alive, but he’ll never see her or speak to her again, not face to face. That would be torture. And how long until you begin to tell others. Your best friend is the chancellor’s son.”

“Do not talk about Wells Jaha to me! He’s the reason my father died, the reason I can’t sleep at night. He’s the one person in all the universe I hate.” She slammed the tablet against his chest. “Now take me home.”

“If Shumway gets even a hint that you know anything, he’ll torture you. He’ll float everyone even remotely connected to me.”

“You have to trust me if we’re going to work together.” She shook her head. “I know you don’t know me, and you have no reason to.”

“I knew your father, sort of. He was a good man. I believe you’re like him.”

“I won’t betray you,” she whispered.

He nodded slightly. “No one even remembers most of these shafts. They’ve been cut off from everything. I’ve been reopening some of them. They’re a maze, honestly, but if you know them, you can get almost anywhere.” He hesitated. “There’s a junction at 42 Phoenix, in GoSci, right on the edge where it connects to the other stations. Inside the maintenance shaft, there’s a grate that looks like it’s sealed off. It’s not, if you feel along the top, there’s a lock. It’s out of view of any cameras. I’ll leave the tablet there tonight, with your answers, and a comm if you need to contact me.”

“All right,” she agreed. “Thank you.” She hesitated. “How did you know my father?”

“He was part of the November movement, a long time ago, before Jaha took control and made it something dirty. He got out after you were born. He wanted to change things, Clarke. He just never got the chance.”

“Then we’ll change them instead,” she nodded and smiled. 

He only nodded very slightly.

The journey to GoSci was long and made almost impossible at times because of her blindfold, but she didn’t complain, chuckling a few times when she heard him curse at having to help her. At 42 Phoenix he showed her the grate and how to open it. She started to climb out and stopped at his hand on her arm, shooting him a curious look.

“The girl, Octavia, she survived,” he murmured.

“Thank you,” she whispered and then darted forward to kiss his cheek, the plastic of the mask strange under her lips. She heard his breath catch and smiled. “I won’t tell him, not yet, I promise. But, Praetor, one day, I will, whether you like it or not.” She backed away, smiled at him, and shrugged. “I know what it’s like, losing someone. He should know he’s not alone.”

She slipped away before he could say anything.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry for taking so long to update! I started my internship and with that and work, I've had almost no time to write! I promise I'm going to try to have the next chapter up within the next week!  
> Bear with me, this chapter veers away from V for Vendetta a little bit, but I promise we'll move back into it in the next chapter.

The pounding on her door woke Clarke from where she’d lain on the couch, expecting her mother would wake her at the end of her shift.

Clarke stumbled to the door and then froze. “Commander Shumway? What do you want?”

The man simply looked at her, no emotion on his face. “You weren’t answering your comm, so your mother sent me to check on you.”

“She sent the head of security because I slept through her calling me?”

“You haven’t left your quarters today, have you?”

“No,” she answered, uneasy suddenly. “Why?”

“Chancellor Jaha was shot yesterday.”

Clarke swayed on the spot. “What? When?!”

“Around the same time that that lunatic found his way onto the screens. We assume he’s responsible.”

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Will he live?”

Shumway hesitated, and Clarke felt herself go cold. “It’s possible. You should know that your mother broke medical protocol trying to save his life. There will be a hearing, and she is going to be charged.”

Clarke stumbled back. “What?”

“You should prepare yourself, Ms. Griffin, in case she’s found guilty. You do have friends, here, you know. You’re a valuable member of our society. The chancellor’s son, in particular has shown concern and inquired after you.”

Clarke felt ice in her veins. “I understand.” She stepped back into her quarters. “Thank you for checking on me, Commander.”

“Clarke?”

She paused, giving him a look. 

“You were given an amazing second chance. I don’t have to tell you how rare that is. Don’t waste a moment, okay? Someday, you could be very powerful, if you’re smart.”

“Thank you for your concern,” she said softly and shut the door immediately.

Clarke waited a moment before leaving her quarters, pacing back and forth so many times she lost count. Finally, she moved through the corridors, checking carefully to be sure she wasn’t being followed. She slipped into the maintenance tunnels and made her way to Phoenix Junction and sat in front of the gate for a moment. Finally she sighed and and reached out, unlocking the grate and taking the waiting comm and tablet, slipping them into her clothes and made her way home.

She was shocked to find her mom already there, waiting on the couch. “Oh my God, Mom, Shumway said-”

“Where have you been?”

Clarke stopped mid-step, the smile slipping off of her face. “What?”

“Where have you been, Clarke?” You’ve been sneaking out at night, or staying somwhere. I never see you anymore. Wells tells me not to worry and tries to cover for you, but I’ve known him his whole life, and I know his tells. What’s the story?”

Clarke sighed. “Mom, I can’t-”

Abby stood abruptly and paced the room for a moment, stopping finally and staring at her, her eyes red with exhaustion and grief etched in her face. “I can’t lost both of you.”

“The Ark is dying. People in Factory and Mecha Stations are starting to show signs of oxygen deprivation. Fatigue, muscle cramps. People are going to start asking questions.” Clarke sighed again. “How’s Jaha?”

“Stable, for now. I don’t know about the long-term.” Abby hesitated. “I assume Shumway told you what happened?” At Clarke’s nod she smiled bitterly. “Kane will have me arrested. I might float. Wherever you’re staying, are you safe there, if something happens to me?”

Clarke sunk to the couch. “This isn’t fair.”

Abby scoffed and sat next to her. “It’s not.”

“Who shot Jaha?”

Abby shook her head. “Oh, that’s a mess. It was a little girl, Charlotte something. They floated her right away. It all happened so fast. She was supposed to be on the dropship, one of the Skybox kids. Clarke, I think someone put her up to it.”

“Tell me about the kids in the Skybox,” Clarke urged quietly.

“We rigged a dropship for them, sent them to Earth to see if it’s survivable. We put monitoring bracelets on them, but the bracelets are manufacturing… or the kids are dying. We don’t know, and I’m trying to convince the council to give me more time before they do something drastic.”

“Drastic?”

Abby hesitated. “They’ve added up how many people have to be sacrificed to buy more time for the Ark as a whole.”

“No,” Clarke said sharply. “If the kids are surviving, then what? The council will send the Ark down?”

Abby shook her head. “We have seven dropships. They can each hold around a hundred people, maybe more if we have time to modify them.”

Clarke stood, staring down at her mother. “Seven hundred people? Eight hundred at the most? There are two thousand people on the Ark, Mom!”

“It will be a lottery,” Abby said tiredly. “It’s the only way. Maybe whoever is left will be able to work on repairing the systems that are failing. But if the kids are dying, then it’s pointless. I need time to prove Earth is livable, and I don’t have it.”

“And if you can’t? The people deserve to know, Mom.”

“It will just make things worse.”

“You can’t be sure about that.” 

“Clarke, stop.” Abby smiled sadly. “I have to get a few hours sleep and go back to Jaha.”

“What if they arrest you?”

“Then I’ll stand by what I did. I knew what I was doing. And I’m floated… Wells will look after you. And if you’ve made other friends.. stay with them. No matter what, though, Clarke, don’t trust Shumway.” She hesitated. “I can’t prove anything, but I think he had something to do with the shooting.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He wants Kane as chancellor, and with Kane as chancellor, you can expect sacrifices for the greater good in staggering amounts. Also, I heard a rumor that Shumway had a kid in his cells before the shooting, but now the kid’s gone.” Abby stood. “Be careful, Clarke, promise me.” She hugged Clarke tightly and kissed her forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you,” Clarke responded numbly, and then moved into her room. She spent the next couple of hours going over the files and questions, typing responses and offering suggestions from her own personal notes and files she had collected as a medic in training. She racked her brain for Earth Skills knowledge and, hoping he was still alive, suggested that Monty Green search for specific plants. Then she suggested Octavia Blake teach others how to stitch. It wasn’t the best or most ideal, but it was better than nothing.

It was late afternoon before she slipped into Phoenix Junction. She unscrewed the grate and stumbled back, stifling a scream with her hand.

“Sorry,” Praetor said, but his voice was deeply amused. “I wasn’t sure you were going to show.”

“Did you shoot the chancellor,” she blurted.

He considered her silently for a moment. “Do you think I shot him? I did tell you I was going to kill more people.”

“Yeah, but my mom might float for this one!”

“What do you mean?”

She explained what her mom had done during the surgery and Kane’s plan to float her unless something happened.

“It wasn’t me,” he said softly. “God knows I wanted to, but I didn’t.” He hesitated. “How’s his son?”

Wells tells me not to worry and tries to cover for you, her mom had said. Clarke shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You should find out.”

“He got my father floated.”

“He didn’t. He kept your secret, Clarke.”

Clarke froze. “What? Why would you say that?”

“He came to me, told me about the plans for the Skybox kids and the dropship. He wanted to help.”

“Why would he come to you?”

“He knew I was familiar with your father and the November Movement.”

Clarke stared at him. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Clarke shoved the tablet at him. “I have to go.”

“Be careful. I’ll see what I can find out about Jaha and your mom.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, but when she looked back he was already gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long, I've been SO busy with my internship! Will try to update sooner, most of the next chapter is already written.

Clarke found Wells at his father’s side, his head laid back on the cot he’d pulled up to the bedside as he stared at a spot on the wall. She cleared her throat and looked at the machine readouts instead of him. “How is he?”

Wells jumped slightly and looked over at her. She smiled very slightly and he smiled back, a look of relief and awe on his face. “Abby says he’s at least stable, but that doesn’t mean he’ll wake up. She said she was heading back to your place to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, she passed out almost immediately. I’m supposed to wake her in a couple of hours.” 

He nodded and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the cot. “You just missed Kane.”

“Darn,” she said sarcastically and he grinned. “What did he say?”

“He mostly just loomed,” Wells sighed. “He also explained what being vice-chancellor means. He’s gunning for your mom, Clarke.”

“He’s always had to be such a stickler for the law,” she muttered. 

“Yeah.” He watched her for several seconds as she fiddled with the instruments, trying to make herself look busy. “What are you doing here, Clarke?”

“Was it you that turned in my dad?”

He blinked and stared at her. “What? Clarke-”

“Was it you? Be honest, Wells.”

He looked away from her, a stubborn set to his jaw. “It sucks having you hate me, okay? Seriously, it’s the worst, but it’s better than the alternative.”

She moved to his side, looking at his father. “We’re dying, Wells. The whole Ark is. But I have an... ally. And he says it wasn’t you.”

Wells swore colorfully. “I told him to leave you out of it.”

“Wells, I wouldn’t stay out of it if he begged me to.”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed.

“Wells, if it wasn’t you…”

“What if I say it was me?”

“Then I won’t believe you.” At his stubborn look she smiled. “I’ve known you since before we could walk. I know your tells. That look right there? Lying,” she sing-songed.

“It wasn’t me,” he muttered. “But I’m not telling you. Hate me if you want.”

Clarke sighed, feeling a twisted in her heart as a thought hung in the back of her mind. Instead of voicing it she sunk onto the cot next to him and bumped his shoulder with hers. “Hating you is the worst.” 

Wells’ lips turned up very slightly and he bumped her back. “Yeah.”

They were both silent a long moment, her leaning on him. “Do you trust him,” she whispered, “Our mutual friend?”

Wells sighed. “I trust he wants to change things. I know they’re blaming him for my dad, but I know him well enough to know it wasn’t him. So yeah, I guess so.” 

“Do you know who he is under the mask?”

“I do, and no, I’m not telling you,” he added quickly when she took a deep breath.

She huffed and pouted. “Fine.”

“He likes you. You’re not what he expected.”

“Please don’t play matchmaker.”

He snorted and then sobered, looking guiltily at his too still father. “I can’t lose him, Clarke. He’s all I have.”

“You have me,” she said without hesitation and nodded at him when he looked at her, startled. “We can start an orphan club and take care of each other.”

He grinned at her morbid humor. “Sounds good.”

The peace of the moment shattered as Jackson ran in, panic in his eyes. “They’ve arrested your mom.

“Be careful,” Wells yelled as she ran out.

 

 

Not surprisingly, they wouldn’t let her see her mother. She had begged and pleaded, but not even Kane would see her. Jackson couldn’t even get in to talk to her about medical files. 

In the end, she fell asleep in the corridor outside of the Skybox, ignored by the guards and refusing to go home.

She woke to the surreal and alarming feeling of being carried. She shifted instantly awake, thrashing out with her arms. Even as she opened her eyes, hands were on her waist, steadying her on her feet.

It was the janitor. Blake, her addled mind provided, as he held up his hands defensively. “Easy.”

She rubbed her hands over her face. “What time is it?”

“Very early, or very late. I just got off of the night shift. I don’t know exactly.”

“And you were just passing by?”

He hesitated a moment until she glared at him. “People were talking about you camping out. I just… wanted to get you out of there before something happened.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged, a small smirk playing on his mouth. “You getting arrested was the main concern.”

“Oh. Thank you,” she said softly, embarrassed.

“Anytime.” He looked her over. “You going to be okay?”

“If they float my mom, I’ll be all alone,” she blurted, then slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply-”

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, and then shrugged again. “It’s the truth, right?”

She nodded. “If the chancellor dies, Wells and I were joking we could form an orphan club and just take care of each other.” She blinked, realizing she was rambling. “Sorry, Wells is-”

“I know who Wells Jaha is,” he said, sounding almost amused.

“Have you read the book?” She asked quickly. 

“I haven’t had time,” he said simply, and she sensed a touch of regret in the words. “Sorry, I know I’m supposed to share.”

“Yeah, once you’ve read it,” she said with a smile. “It’s yours until you’re done with it. I promise, I won’t hold it against you.”

“What if I want to keep it?” He asked, eyes on hers.

“Then it’s yours, as long as you want.”

He blinked and then looked away from her. “Thanks.”

She nodded, and then sighed deeply. “They’re going to float my mom.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Clarke’s smile trembled. “Yeah. You’re not going to be the only one.” She nodded. “Stay safe.”

He hesitated and then set his hand on her shoulder. “Clarke, be careful.”

She didn’t try to smile or reassure him, she just shrugged. “I think I’m tired of being careful.”

He said nothing as she walked away.

 

 

Clarke stood in her empty living room for several minutes, thinking of happier times. Then she took a deep breath and set up the com’s recorder and sat down at the desk.

“My name is Clarke Griffin. My father was Jake Griffin. Most of you already know he was the Senior Environmental Engineer and the Deputy Resource Officer of the Ark. He was floated for treason.”

She took a deep breath. “The truth is, he wanted to warn everyone else about what was going on. The truth is, the Ark is dying. We’re running out of oxygen. Within only a few months, we’ll be dead. That’s the truth he died for. He believed that letting the population know would inspire change, would inspire the people to help. The Council disagreed. The Council thinks panic and riots will break out. Please, don’t prove my father wrong. Please, help us.”

She stopped the recording and saved it, hidden in folders, and files within files, and then sat there for a long time, thinking about the future.


	7. Chapter 7

Clarke woke up, heart racing. She lay in her bed for a long moment, gasping, trying to recall the dream that had obviously woken her. The room was silent except for the constant mechanical hum that usually served as a comforting background noise. 

Then a familiar voice spoke her name from the dark corner of her room.

She shrieked and sat up, looking around the small space for Praetor.

“Clarke, I need your help, please.”

She scrambled for the light and moved towards the corner. “Where is your voice coming from?”

“There’s a comm attached to the bottom of your desk.”

She stopped. “Are you spying on me?”

“There isn’t time for this,” he said, his tone irritated. “I need your help.”

“How? Why?”

“Can you just trust me?”

“You’re spying on me in my bedroom,” she said angrily. “Why can’t you just trust me?”

There was a long silence, and then his voice came back, suddenly exhausted. “Please, Clarke. I need you to come to Mech Station. I will make sure no one catches you. The doors will tell you where to go. Please, just this one last time, and I’ll never bother you again.” There was a brief hesitation. “Wear your hood.”

“Is there a camera in here? I want you to see me flipping you off,” she said hotly, reaching for her clothes. There was no response and she huffed. “Well, enjoy the show if there is,” she muttered, and changed.

She walked out into the living room, unsure why she’d expected her mother to be there. Habit, maybe. Blind hope, probably. She looked at the clock and realized she’d barely gotten any sleep. A couple of hours at most.

The trip to Mech was uneventful, although she had a glaring contest with a door once or twice. Finally she stepped across the Mech threshold and hesitated at the empty common room. It was creepy, dark, creaking and cold. 

“Bona Dea?” A hesitant voice echoed into the room and she turned to find a tall, darker complected girl watching her from the hall.

“Yes,” she said simply.

“I didn’t think you’d show,” the girl said with a shake of her head. “He knew you would though. You made an impression.”

“Was it an impression of violence?”

The girl grinned. “He’s right. You are awesome.”

Clarke blinked, taken aback at the implied compliment from the vigilante.

The girl stepped forward and held her hand out. “I’m supposed to give you some name steeped in mythology, but honestly, I’ve forgotten it already, and it was probably ridiculous. I’m Raven. Raven Reyes.” 

Clarke blinked. “You’re not afraid to trust me?”

“He trusts you. Good enough for me.” Clarke was tempted to argue that the comm proved quite the opposite, but kept silent as the girl shrugged and kept speaking. “Besides, after tonight, there’s no going back. I float, you float,” she said cheerfully.

Clarke grinned. “That’s encouraging.”

“I thought so,” Raven grinned back. “This way. I was the best choice to guide you back. I wanted to meet you, anyway, of course. He never shuts up about you, so of course I did.”

“Never shuts up about me?” Clarke echoed as they walked to a maintenance shaft.

“Ah, well, some secrets we’ll let him keep, okay?”

“You know who he is,” Clarke said with a touch of realization. 

“Yeah,” Raven said quietly. “We all know each in the lower decks, some more than others, but yeah. He needed my help though, and I refused to help a mask.”

“What do you do?”

“For our motley crew, you mean?” Raven smirked. “If it’s got wires or metal, I can make it live.”

They crawled through the Ark, and then, as Clarke heard the faint strains of music she stopped, leaning back as Raven stopped too.

“You okay?” The other girl asked matter-of-factly.

“What am I doing here?”

Raven blinked at her.

Clarke sighed, suddenly exhausted all over again. “It’s just… I know what being Bona Dea means. I get it. I’ll float. But there is a huge difference between doing what I think is right, and doing what he thinks is right. I just want to know if I’m going to be able to look at myself in the mirror if I keep doing this.”

“He named you.”

Clarke looked up. “What?”

Raven shrugged. “He likes history and myths and crap like that. When you started helping out in the common room, we saw you sometimes, while we were still just talking about how much we hate the Ark. He saw you, and he named you. And it caught on. Do you know who Bona Dea was?”

“A healer,” Clarke sighed. “Yeah.”

“She was more than that. She protected the people of Rome, and everyone was equal in her eyes. She was worshipped by slaves and senators. That means something here, where everyone feels like a slave. You started something. You reminded people that there should be someone that watches out for everyone, regardless of power or wealth.”

“Because there should be,” Clarke muttered. 

“Yeah, there should. And we have you and we have him. One of you is a healer, and the other one… pretty much does the opposite of healing.”

Clarke snorted. 

“And we need you now, to heal.” Raven hesitated. “Someone is hurt, and we need you. Can you look at yourself or whatever if you walk away from that?”

Clarke smiled wryly. “You know I can’t.”

“He’s an ass, but he’s trying.”

She nodded. “Who’s hurt?”

“It’s a long story. Turns out, the kids down there aren’t alone.”

Clarke blinked. “Did Praetor tell you to say that?”

“No. Weird as it seems, I’m telling the truth.”

She shook her head. “Let’s go.”

She slipped out of the grate and into a room she’d never seen before. Mechanical parts, cloth-covered contraptions and a table covered in small radios filled the room. On the table a small pad sat, soft music spilling from it. 

“Where are we?”

“Let’s just say it’s forbidden to be here, and leave it at that,” Praetor said, appearing in the corner of the room. He bowed his head to her. “Bona Dea.”

“Praetor.” She gave him a steady look, aware of Raven entering the room, bolting the grate, and moving over to the large object that takes up most of the room and still manages to be covered by a grease-stained cloth. “Is there a camera in my room?”

“No,” he said immediately but steadily. “Only a comm, and it was intended as protection.”

“For you or for me?”

“Why not both?” He hesitated, and she thought by the way his head moved that he glanced at Raven, but then he sighed. “I needed to know if you were ever caught. And I needed a way to reach you in an emergency.”

“Such as now?”

“Yes.” He motioned to the radios on the table. “We’ll be able to talk to the delinquents very soon. There’s a hurt boy down there, and it’s bad, and I think you’re the only chance he has of surviving. If you tell me there’s hope, I’ll believe you.”

She blinked, thinking of when she had told him something similar and he had told her that hope didn’t matter. Apparently, his opinion had changed. “Did you really name me?”

Now he definitely looked at Raven. “Yes,” he muttered, sounding put out. “I did.”

“It’s a good name. Thank you for it.” When he stood looking at her she moved forward. “Describe his injury and when it happened, and when the radio comes up, get me Octavia Blake.”

“Why her?”

“Her mother was a seamstress, she’s the best shot he has. Get her, Monty Green, and Jasper Jordan on the radio with me.”

“It’s Jasper that’s hurt.”

Clarke thought of the goofy boy she had seen on her Skybox rounds. “Okay. Then I need Monty Green. His parents work in Agro. He’ll be able to find plants that have antibiotic properties.”

Praetor spent the next few minutes telling her of the attack when the kids had tried to cross the river, and of the presence of what they were calling Grounders.

“Clarke,” he said softly. “I understand if, when this is over, you decide not to have any part of this anymore.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Then shut up and hand me the radio.” 

He set his hand on her shoulder just as the radio crackled to life. It clicked twice, was silent a moment and then clicked again. Praetor picked it up. “This is Praetor.”

“He’s bad,” the young girl’s voice said immediately. “It was a spear, and we had to cut him down and carry him back.

“Is anyone else hurt?”

“No. I don’t have any idea what to do.”

Clarke held out her hand and he handed her the radio. “This is Bona Dea. I’m going to walk you through this.”

“I’m Octavia. Bona Dea, the healer?”

“Yes.” Clarke smiled. “I got to meet your brother the other day. He really misses you.”

“I miss him too,” she said quietly.

Clarke took a deep breath. “Did you receive the information I gave to Praetor about the plant to be looking for?”

“Yes.”

“And has anyone gathered them?”

“It’s been a madhouse down here. Everyone just wanted to run around like idiots at first, but we’ve started getting things set up for survival. Murphy’s an ass, but he’s useful. Miller and Collins have helped.”

Praetor hummed behind her and Clarke went on. “The plants, though?”

“No. Monty’s been freaking out about Jasper. We’re starting to get scared down here.”

“All right, listen. You helped your mom, right, with her seamstress work. I need you to make a needle of some sort, and I need you to gather up thread. Take it out of the parachutes if you have to.”

“Hang on.” There was silence for a long moment and Clarke turned to see Praetor standing over her, and Raven keeping busy on what Clarke recognized now as an ancient escape pod. “Okay, listen, Collins said he can make a few needles, easy, and he’s going to do that now. Murphy has some kids gathering up the parachutes. We were going to turn them into tents.”

“Good plan,” Clarke said easily. “This is going to be the hard part. Monty has to go out and find those plants. You can’t just sew him up, or he’ll die from infection, and that will be bad.”

“The Grounders put some sort of, I don’t know, bag of stuff on his chest, where the spear hit him.”

“A poultice?” Clarke blinked, started to reprimand her for not remembering that from Earth Skills, then stopped and shook her head at her own foolishness. “Any idea what’s in it? The Grounders will probably have a better idea of what to use to help better than anything we’ve learned in our books.”

“I’ll have Monty look at it, try to figure it out. Did you send down the medical books too? On the pads?”

“Yes. I’m surprised you got them.”

“Yeah, tell Raven her transmitter worked.”

“I will. You need to keep him as warm and still as possible.”

A burst of static came across the radio suddenly. “We’re losing signal. I’ll call back as soon as signal comes back. May we meet again.”

When the radio was silent she handed it back to Praetor. “I’m not sure how much I helped.”

“You helped,” he said simply.

Clarke stood and walked to where Raven was working. “How long until it’s ready to go down?”

She sensed Praetor freeze beside her and Raven paused to look between Clarke and him before shrugging. “Less than a week.” 

“My father would have loved to have seen this.”

“It fits two,” Praetor murmured and she turned to raise her eyebrows at him. “I was going to offer you the second seat.”

“I get the first,” Raven said, her tone belligerent. “My only family is down there.”

Clarke hesitated. “I can’t leave my mother.”

Praetor regarded her and then nodded. “Think about it, at least.”

A comm sounded shrilly and everyone turned towards it. “It’s time,” Wells distinctive voice sounded. “Get her home, so Shumway can escort her to the airlock. It’ll look bad if she isn’t home.”

Raven stood straight. “Let’s get going then.”

Clarke looked at him, desperate suddenly. “Have you found anything that might help my mother. Anything?”

“I’m still looking,” he said quietly. “Don’t give up.”

“Hope?” She asked wryly.

She was gone before he responded, and there was a dark part of her that took pleasure in being the one to leave him speechless this time.


	8. Chapter 8

Clarke was standing at the door when Shumway knocked, Raven only having left a few minutes before. The other girl had offered to stay with her, but Clarke had declined, because all any of them needed was to get someone’s attention.

She followed Shumway silently until they rounded the corner and she saw Abby. “Mom!”

“Oh! Oh, no, Clarke, don’t do this,” Abby hissed, hugging her tightly. “I don’t want you here.”

“I’m the only family you have left,” Clarke said helplessly.

“My beautiful girl, listen to me. Make sure Jaha wakes up. He’s the only one that stop them from reducing the Ark’s population.” Clarke doesn’t miss the glare she shoots at Kane, but her mother’s eyes quickly move to Jackson. “Jackson, use the wristbands. There may be a way to reverse engineer them for communication. Talk to Sinclair in Engineering.”

Jackson nodded.

Clarke struggled against Shumway’s hold. “Let me go!”

“Get her out of here,” Kane ordered.

“She’s my mom!”

Kane frowned, not looking at her. “She broke the law.”

“Screw the law!” She stomped on Shumway’s foot and he let go of her reflexively. She glanced back to see the pure fury on his face and realized detachedly that she’d just earned herself a spot in the Skybox.

Then the lights went out.

For a moment no one moved. “What’s going on?” Someone, Jackson, she thought, asked.

“It’s temporary,” Kane murmured, sounding almost regretful. “Shumway, get her out of here, now.”

Clarke blinked and then realized. “Oh God, did it cut her oxygen?”

“Better if you go,” Kane said sympathetically.

“No,” she argued, but felt a hand close around her arm. She yanked away but the grip remained. “I’m not scared of you.”

“You’re in enough trouble, you probably should be.”

Clarke felt a rush of fury. “Well, I’d better make it good then,” she snarled and twisted to headbutt him. She heard the satisfying crunch, ignoring her own pain, expecting him to release her. If anything, his grip increased and she cried out in pain.

“Shumway? Clarke? What is it?” Jackson asked

Before she could respond the lights came back up and Clarke saw the blood gushing from Shumway’s nose before she spun to the airlock and almost collapsed in relief at the sight of her mother smiling at her.

“Wait!”

They all turned to see Wells running down the corridor towards them, smile wide. Behind him, moving much more slowly, was Chancellor Jaha.

“Doctor Griffin is pardoned of her crimes,” Jaha ordered and glared at Kane. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Kane stood straight, but said nothing as Abby stepped out into the corridor and gave Jaha a cool glance. “I spent twelve hours putting those intestines back together.” Her eyes cut to Jackson. “Get him back to bed.” She turned to Shumway. “Get your hands off of my daughter.”

Clarke sobbed, and crashed into her mother’s arms. 

“What happened to your face?” Jaha asked suddenly and Clarke closed her eyes tightly, realizing how stupid she had been.

“Miss Griffin attacked me,” Shumway said coolly. 

“Oh, Clarke,” Abby whispered into the sudden silence.

“It was heat of the moment,” Jaha began.

“I want a hearing,” Shumway said quickly.

“Tomorrow.” Everyone turned to find Kane pointedly not looking at any of them. “It’s the law. A person who has been pardoned has the right to spend the day with their family. You can’t have a hearing until tomorrow.”

Abby kept her arm around Clarke’s shoulders and glared at Kane as they started to move. “Wait,” Clarke murmured, and her mother’s objections were halted by Jaha calling her to his side. 

Shumway sneered at her.”Like father, like daughter. At least your mom will fight for you.”

“Enough,” Kane said grimly. Shumway looked like he wanted to say more, then stopped and nodded before leaving. 

Clarke paused in front of Kane, who was looking back at her, his face blank. “What was that? Giving me one last night with my family?”

Kane looked at her steadily, looking… tired, actually. “I know what you think of me, Miss Griffin, what you all think of me. But I grew up in the lower levels, watching your people interpret the law in their favor. They absolved themselves of crimes as they chose, and punished my people for the slightest offense. The law is what matters, Clarke. It’s all that should.”

She blinked and he smiled very slightly. “For what it’s worth, I plan to vote for clemency for you tomorrow. Shumway will be furious, I expect. Heat of the moment and all that, though,” he shrugged. “Yes, though, it is entirely possible that tonight is the last night of freedom you have with your family. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Clarke watched him go, sighed and started towards her mother, then froze, Shumway’s words coming back to her. She stared at Jaha and her mother speaking in low tones, Wells, watching them from several feet away. Wells met her eyes and then looked quickly down, and she felt herself go cold.

She stalked past them and ignored her mother’s calls to wait, not even acknowledging when her mother caught up to walk at her side. Abby was anxiously silent as they made their way home and Clarke could feel her shooting her confused looks. “Clarke-”

“Not now, Mom,” she said quietly as they arrived at their apartment. “Give me an hour?”

Abby watched her for a long moment and then nodded. “I have to check on Jaha. Meet back here and have lunch?”

Clarke nodded. “I’ll beat you home with any luck.”

Abby nodded again and sighed. “Be careful,” she whispered and walked slowly away.

Clarke moved quickly, loading her saved up ration points and the hidden pharmaceuticals into the bag she often used as Bona Dea. She hesitated a moment and then reached under the desk for the comm unit Praetor had somehow snuck into her room. 

It was a modified recorder. She recognized it from her father bringing home a bunch one night and repairing them. She had watched him and he had shown her the basics, until her mother had come in and joked that he was trying to change her mind about being a medic.

Clarke blinked away the tears in her eyes at the memory and made quick work of turning it back into a recorder. She thought for a moment and then smiled bitterly.

“Hey, Praetor. By now I’m sure you know what I’ve done. I know you’re thinking it was stupid, but I’m not sure you’ve ever thought highly of me anyway.” She laughed. “If you could have seen his face though. Totally worth it,” she breathed, then cleared her throat. “I’m sorry if you’re mad that I told Blake, but I had to. Get him to the ground okay? Please? Send the meds down with Raven and Bellamy, and give the rations out to the ones that need it. Get as many people to the ground as you can. Use the exodus ships.” She hesitated. “I believe in you, for whatever that’s worth. May we meet again.”

She pocketed the comm and left her room, then paused, her eyes on her father’s bookshelf. She turned to the small storage closet they had, pulled out another backpack, and filled it quickly.

Stopping at the Phoenix junction was quick. Leaving the backpack full of meds and rations made her hesitate, nostalgically if nothing else. 

Looking up someone’s home assignment was easy enough, and she ignored the questioning looks she got as she moved through the corridors, one backpack on her back, and carrying the other. She probably looked like a runaway. Her confidence only wavered when she knocked on the door.

She panicked almost immediately, because he might not even be home.

Then the door slid open and Bellamy glared out at her and she felt relief course through her. She smiled and his glare faded into confusion. “Griffin?”

She pushed him gently backwards into his apartment and shut the door. “Listen, I don’t have a lot of time, so I’m going to be quick.” She took off the book bag and handed it to him, watching his confusion grow as he realized how heavy it was. In any other situation it would be funny. “Do you know Raven Reyes?”

“Mechanic?”

“Yes.” Clarke took a deep breath. “You need to find her and tell her that I’m giving you my seat.”

He frowned. “Your seat?”

“It’s a long story, ask Raven. And I’m sorry in advance for any shit Praetor gives you. He’s an ass but I think he’s a good person, okay? Just tell him I trust you, and I’m going to leave him a message anyway.” She stopped quickly when Bellamy reached out and set his hands on her shoulders. 

“Clarke, breathe,” he said sternly and she realized he looked vaguely panicked before she dropped his hands and stepped back from her. “What’s going on?”

“They were going to float my mom and Shumway was holding me back, and he hurt me,” she whispered, and she rubbed her arm absently. When she saw him eyeing her arm she dropped her hand and cleared her throat. “I broke his nose, and I’m probably going to be in the Skybox in the morning. It’s not important.” She smiled up at him. “What matters is Octavia is alive, on the ground. It’s a long story and I don’t have time to tell it, but you can go to the ground, okay? There’s a pod, Raven is fixing it. It fits two, and you get the second seat.”

He stared at her. “You broke Shumway’s nose?”

She laughed. “That’s what you’re focusing on? Your sister is alive, Bellamy Blake, on the ground, and you get to go down there. Just, I want you to take my dad’s books, too, okay?” He was still staring at her so she sighed. “Please?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I’ll get them to the ground.” He stepped forward and gently set his hands on her shoulders. “They won’t float you. You’re still underage.”

“Things are changing,” she whispered and rubbed her temples. “The Ark is breaking down. It’s why you have to go down there now. Soon, they’ll start floating non-essentials, to buy time to fix it. But it can’t be fixed. My dad knew that. They’ll rig the evacuation. We both know that’s how it works, and I want you to live. This is the only way I know how to make that happen.” She smiled sadly. “Find Raven Reyes. Have a good life.”

He paled and slumped into the single chair in the room. “Why me? You don’t even know me.”

“I know you kept Octavia sane and you gave her a good life, as best as possible. She’s wonderful, Bellamy. She needs you. Plus, you read the classics.” She grinned. “That has to mean something.” She walked over slowly, meeting his gaze head-on. She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, listening to the way his breath hitched. “May we meet again,” she whispered and then she turned and left the room before he had time to respond.

 

Clarke stepped into her family’s quarters and found Abby waiting on the couch. Her mother smiled in relief and stood. “I thought you’d be back before me,” she teased.

Clarke watched her mother for a moment and thought of Shumway’s words and Wells’ avoidances. Then she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Mom, did you turn in Dad?”

**Author's Note:**

> Drop me a note and let me know what you think!!!


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